


Backwards or Not

by xxenjoy



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Anal Sex, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, Love Confessions, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Top!Cas, jealous!Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-22
Updated: 2014-12-22
Packaged: 2018-03-02 19:35:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2823617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xxenjoy/pseuds/xxenjoy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean and Castiel are roommates who occasionally have sex. Everything is great, until it isn't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Backwards or Not

**Author's Note:**

> So this is an apology of sorts for not finishing te OTP challenge, but lack of computer is killing me and my creativity. However! Roomie let me borrow her computer today, so I finished this one! 
> 
> Special thanks to her, and A for being super duper patient after reading half of this pre-laptop destruction.

Dean and Cas have been living together for months, sharing a two bedroom apartment downtown, a couple blocks away from KU. They've been sleeping together almost as long.  
   
It had initially started as a way to relieve stress - they'd both been single for too damn long, and one drunken night had ended with the two of them in bed together. It had been fucking fantastic sex, and after one too many bad dates, Cas had come home in a huff, insisting that he was _never_ dating again, and their arrangement had been made.  
   
And it works. It's been a good few months, but lately it's been harder and harder for Dean to pretend that all it is is sex. He tries, but more and more often he finds himself wanting to stay in Cas' bed afterwards, or ask Cas to stay in his. There are mornings he wakes up wanting someone to curl into, and as much as he deludes himself, he knows that just anyone won't do. He knows how deep he's gotten, but like everything else, he shoves it all down as deep as it'll go and pretends that the ache in his chest is anything but Cas-related.  
   
This works, as well as it ever has, until one night when Dean comes home, exhausted and miserable. He's got a stupid fucking essay due first thing that he hasn't touched, and one of the new kids didn't show up for work, so he ended up working two hours of overtime doing fuck all because apparently no one gets coffee past seven pm. All he wants to do is settle down with a beer and some crappy TV. Maybe ask Cas to join him. Maybe ask Cas to fuck him. There's a lot more he'd like to ask Cas for, but he'll never willingly admit to wanting someone - Cas - to just hold him and kiss him, and just- Dean groans and bangs his head against the door. Pulling himself together, he pushes the door open, and having been inside all of five seconds, he already wants to turn around and leave.  
   
Cas is with someone.  
   
 _Fuck_.  
   
There's no mistaking the sounds coming through the bedroom door, but the grunted ' _oh, fuck yes_ ' pretty much seals it for him. Dean feels sick. It's not like he was expecting Cas to be waiting for him with open arms, and they never said anything about not seeing other people, but Cas hasn't brought anyone home since they started. Come to think of it, it's been a while since he and Cas were together, too. Fuck. Dean's heart sinks when he hears Cas' low chuckle and a familiar voice growl in response. It takes him all of five seconds to realize Cas is fucking Bartholomew. Perfect, blonde-hair-and-blue-eyes Bart who's handsome as fuck and is way better for Cas than Dean could ever be. Fuck. _Fuck._  
   
Grabbing the entire six-pack from the fridge, he locks himself in his room and shoots off a quick text to Charlie letting her know he's sick and won't be in class tomorrow. He spends the rest of his night with his beer and a bottle of Jack getting blind drunk and pretending he can't hear his phone buzzing at him. It's quieter than Cas and Bart, anyway.

\- - -

   
Dean thinks about it all the time. Every goddamn day. He thinks about it way too much, and every time he does, it makes his stomach turn. He wants to yell at Cas, but he can't - it's not Cas' fault - so he gets mad at himself instead, curses himself for inevitable ruining what was a good arrangement, and a great friendship, because that's what he's done. There's no way they can come back from this now, Dean's come out and admitted everything now, even if only to himself.  
   
He avoids Cas - to prolong the inevitable fallout, and because he's selfish. He wants to pretend everything's okay, and he can keep going like this like nothing has changed, which really, as far as Cas is concerned, it hasn't. Avoiding Cas is difficult though, considering the small space they share, but he stays out late - drinking himself stupid, most nights - and sneaks in when he knows Cas will be asleep, locking his bedroom door behind him.  
   
Bartholomew - thankfully - never makes a reappearance, but it doesn't make Dean feel any better. Instead, he snaps at Bart when he sits down next to him in their business class. 

God, he is such a child.  
   
Dean gets home that night feeling guilty on top of everything else, and when he realizes Cas isn't there, his mind provides all sorts of explanations as to where he could be, all of which include Bart in compromising positions. He wants to bleach his brain. It shouldn't even bother him that Cas is gone, he's been avoiding the guy anyway, but his heart and his brain are so fucked up right now that he's upset that Cas might be avoiding _him_. Dean curses his brain and slumps onto the couch, flicking on the TV and hoping to find something mindless to listen to while he does his schoolwork. Nothing is on.  
   
Dean's so distracted by the thought of where Cas is, that he doesn't hear the door open and close, doesn't realize Cas is even home until the man is practically on top of him, his hot breath dusting over Dean's collar bone. Dean ignores him, despite the wave of heat that rushes up his back. He returns his focus to the papers in front of him, though they could be blank for all he can focus on them. Cas shifts so he's sitting on one folded leg, his chest pressing against Dean's side as his lips press searing kisses into Dean's skin.  
   
" _Dean_ ," he hums, his fingers coming up to trace the line of skin above Dean's collar. Cas pulls Dean's chin to face him, but Dean turns back to his papers, determined to ignore Cas until he goes away and jerks off alone or calls Bart or does whatever the fuck he does when he's not with Dean. Only Cas doesn't go. He nips at his chin, rising up on his knees in an attempt to massage Dean's shoulders, or push his shirt off. Either way, Dean closes his eyes and shoves him away.  
   
Cas frowns and sits back on his heels, "what's wrong?" he asks, his voice soft and caring like Dean hasn't been pushing him away for weeks. "You've been wound so tight lately, and you look fucking _amazing_ in that shirt." Cas' voice is almost a growl as his hands slide up Dean's chest.  
   
"Back off," Dean hisses, not caring that he's being a little harsh. Cas pulls away more quickly this time, all but glaring at him.  
   
"What the hell, Dean? Y'know, if you wanted to stop this you could have just said something."  
   
"Well, I didn't," Dean frowns back at him, "and maybe I do." For a split second, Cas looks as dejected as Dean feels, but he pulls himself together and settles against the arm of the couch so that he's leaning away from Dean.  
   
"Fine," he mutters, crossing his arms, and Dean is glad for a moment, that he's not the only one who's completely childish. After a few minutes of tense silence, Cas adds, "you gonna tell me why, at least?"  
   
"No." Dean grabs his books and shoves them back into his bag messily, pushing himself up and stalking off toward the bedroom. He wants to pretend he doesn't hear Cas shout after him, but he does, and he calls back, "just drop it, Cas!"  
   
"Why are you being such a dick?"  
   
Dean closes his eyes momentarily, dropping his shit in the hallway, because he _knows_ that this has been coming, and at least if they're fighting when it happens, maybe it'll be easier to leave.  
   
"You wanna know why?" he asks, stalking up toward Cas, close enough that if he was being really immature, he could poke his roommate in the chest, "because you fucked Bart. You fucked Bart in our fucking apartment and I can't say a goddamn word about it because we never said we weren't gonna 'see other people' or whatever," he hates that he's picked up the stupid air quotes thing from Cas, but he ignores it at this particular moment, and continues, "I'm being a _dick_ because I was stupid enough to think that I could start fucking around with my best friend and not fucking fall in love with him!" Dean stops and inhales sharply, eyes wide as if he's only just realizing what he's said.  
   
Expressionless, Cas steps up to him faster than Dean can counter with half of his brain trying to figure out how he can backtrack, but then there are hands on his face, squishing his cheeks somewhere between anger and affection. Cas' voice is much smoother when he speaks again, breathy and almost relieved.  
   
"Why didn't you just say that?"  
   
He kisses Dean full on the mouth, quick and pushing the borders of chaste. "Idiot," he rumbles, and Dean opens his mouth to speak only to be silence by Cas' lips again, just as briefly. "Should've told me," he breathes, and then he's kissing Dean again, mumbling things that go unregistered in Dean's brain as it tries to comrehend what the fuck is happening.  
   
Cas is supposed to be pissed. He's supposed to be kicking Dean out, or packing his own bag, he's not supposed to be kissing him and making stupid little cooing noises at him. Thoughts reorganize themselves in Dean's head, and as the pieces begin to click together, he pulls away, keeping Cas at arm's length.  
   
" _What_?" is all he can manage to get out.  
   
Cas just looks up at him innocently, like he hasn't been assaulting Dean with his mouth, a smile in his eyes that doesn't need to reach his lips, "I love you too."  
   
He sighs, like it's something he's been holding onto for too long, and he's glad to finally get it out there. Dean can relate.  
   
Before he has a chance to say so, Cas' hands are running up and down his stomach slowly, settling on his hips as their lips meet again. This time Dean kisses back, his hands sliding over Cas' shoulders, and Cas moans softly into him, encouraging the reciprocation. It's different, but not. He knows the lines of Cas' body almost as well as his own, knows the dip of his back, the smooth planes of his chest. He knows what it takes to make Cas absolutely lose his mind, but it's never been like this before, this is entirely new.  
   
Cas walks him backwards slowly. They break apart laughing when Dean backs into the wall and Cas doesn't realize until he's flush against Dean's chest, eyes still shut. Dean doesn't recover as quickly as Cas, chuckling quietly until Cas' mouth finds the bolt of his jaw. He lets out a stuttered sigh, brushing the fingertips of one hand up to push into Cas' hair in appreciation.  
   
Dean tugs lightly, pulling Cas’ mouth back up to his own, and draws back just far enough that their lips don’t actually touch. Cas’ eyes flick up to his, soft and inquiring, and Dean’s struck with the sudden realization that this is actually happening and Cas just told him that he loves him.  
   
Cas _loves_ him.  
   
 _Holy shit._  
   
He pushes forward, sliding his hands under Cas’ shirt and pressing him into the opposite wall, “I love you,” he says firmly, curving his fingers around Cas’ ribs. He cuts off Cas’ chuckle with a kiss, licking into Cas’ mouth and nipping at his lips. Cas surrenders with a moan, his hands coming up to cup Dean’s face as he presses into him, gasping at a particularly sharp bite.  
   
“Sorry,” Dean pants, but Cas is already pushing him backwards again, walking him through Dean’s bedroom door. The backs of Dean’s knees hit the bed and Cas is leaning over him, crawling up the bed and slipping his fingers under the hem of Dean’s t-shirt. He gets it off without much difficulty and ducks down to press his lips to Dean’s bared chest, teasing the heated skin with his teeth.  
   
Cas knows exactly how to take him apart, could have him shaking and begging for release in minutes, but right now he’s taking his time. Whatever he has planned, he wants to draw it out, and Dean is willing to go along with just about anything Cas wants. He lifts his hips when Cas’ hands graze his waistband, encouraging him, but Cas just continues downward, curling his hands under Dean’s thighs and running them down the backs of his legs. The gentle touch sends a shiver up Dean’s spine and his dick twitches eagerly in his jeans. Cas pushes up under Dean’s pantlegs, pulling his socks off one at a time, and Dean cringes, because socks are just about the most unsexy thing _ever_ , but Cas doesn’t seem to notice or care, just climbs back up the bed and dips his head to mouth at Dean’s hips.  
   
“Mm, Dean,” he hums. He catches Dean’s eye as he licks along the hollow of Dean’s hip, and stretches up suddenly to catch his mouth in a heated kiss. Their teeth clash, and it’s almost impossible to breathe, but when Cas grinds his hips down, Dean lets out a moan that he’s sure they’ll hear next door and any discomfort is forgotten. He groans at the press of Cas’ erection against his own, even after all this time, he still gets a rush knowing that he’s the one that does this to Cas, he’s the one Cas wants.  
   
Dean’s fingers find the edge of Cas’ shirt, pulling it up over his shoulders, and Cas breaks the kiss just long enough to duck out of his shirt, before running his tongue over Dean’s bottom lip. Dean drags one hand down Cas’ chest, trailing down to work open Cas’ pants as his shirt is tossed away and forgotten. He gets the button open and slides his hand past the waistband, cupping Cas’ dick and stroking him slowly. Cas rocks into his hand with a whine, breaking away only to kiss Dean’s face. He mumbles soft, breathy variations of ‘ _oh, Dean_ ’ into freckled skin, and kisses the words away with soft lips. Beneath him, Dean hums softly, pressing his fingertips into the silky flesh of Cas’ length. Each breath and sound that falls from Cas’ lips just increases his urgency, but he’s determined to make Cas feel good before he worries about himself. He draws his hand back, lingering at the head of Cas’ dick, teasing the tip with his thumb until Cas whines and drops his head to the mattress.  
   
The whine turns into a growl as Dean pulls away completely, shoving Cas’ pants and boxers off his hips in one smooth motion. Cas shuffles down the bed to kick off his jeans and Dean takes a moment to appreciate the view, palming at his own neglected erection. Cas has always been gorgeous – according to his highschool yearbook, he even skipped the awkward gangly stage of development – but leaning over the end of the bed completely naked, Dean is struck by just how beautiful his rooommate – lover? – really is. Cas peers at him, grinning and in an instant he’s back in Dean’s lap, running his hands down to open Dean’s pants.  
   
“You too,” Cas breathes into Dean’s ear, his voice needy and rougher than usual. Their eyes stay fixed on each other as Dean props himself up on his elbows and lifts his hips so Cas can undress him. His jeans end up halfway across the room, and Cas moves back up.  
   
Dean groans at the first unrestricted contact, curling his fingers into Cas’ thighs and dropping his head back, “fuck I’ve missed this lately.”  
   
Cas thrusts forward, aligning their erections as Dean shuffles to sit up, his hands sliding up to knead Cas’ ass, forcing the roll of his hips.  
   
“God, me too,” Cas groans, “wanted you so bad, but you haven’t been around.”  
   
“Sorry,” Dean breathes, his breath catching at the end of the word as Cas’ dick nudges at his stomach, wet and slick, “guess I don’t deal with things well, huh?”  
   
“Understatement.” 

Cas shifts, rolling onto his side and curling one hand around the back of Dean’s neck to pull him down with him, fingertips massaging the back of his head. The slide away slowly as Cas kisses down Dean’s chest, shifting down the bed until his lips fit easily over the head of Dean’s dick.  
   
Lightning shoots up Dean’s spine, and he squirms, curling himself around Cas, but then Cas runs a hand down the inside of his thigh, lifting it over his side, and there’s a firm pressure against his entrance. Dean stiffens with anticipation and Cas’ fingers trace a line down his thigh.  
   
“Relax,” he whispers into the crease of Dean’s thigh. Cas nibbles at the sensitive skin of Dean’s balls with his lips while his finger circles his rim, teasingly slow.  
   
Cas works him open slowly, taking his time and savouring each desperate sound that Dean breathes into his mouth. Dean is less patient, rocking back onto him with each thrust and pushing into Cas’ mouth. At some point, he realizes, Cas must have grabbed the lube from the nightstand, because he’s fucking into him easily with two fingers now, but Dean’s mind has turned to mush and all he can focus on is Cas’ deadly lips and tongue that are apparently determined to make him come before Cas can fuck him properly.  
   
He feels it the second Cas adds a third finger, stretching him further and finding his prostate on the second thrust. Cas’ lips seal around his balls at the same time, and it’s all Dean can do to hold it together.  
   
“Baby, you gotta stop,” he grits out, words jumbling together as his fingers dig into Cas’ scalp, “gonna make me come.”  
   
Cas gives a grunt of displeasure, but with one final suck, he pulls away. Dean grabs him and pulls him up, curling over to crush their mouths togther, “you’re too fucking good at that,” he rasps. Cas just smiles at him, and rubs his fingers pointedly over Dean’s prostate until Dean’s eyes roll back in his head.  
   
“Are you ready?” The groaned ‘yes’ that comes out of Dean’s mouth is over-enthusiastic, and earns him a strained chuckle from Cas. “Good, “ he breathes, “because I don’t think I can wait any longer.”  
   
A low moan bubbles up from Dean’s chest and Cas’ lips find his again. It’s rough and desperate, both of them at the end of their patience, but there’s also an undercurrent of softness that’s never been so prominent before. Dean slows his lips, trying to draw it out, to hold onto the feeling as Cas lifts his thigh and presses back between his legs.  
   
He feels Cas' swollen head press against him and he curls his arm tighter around the man’s shoulders, a needy whine caught in his throat. Cas kisses him tenderly, never straying far from his lips as he pushes in slowly, giving Dean time to relax around him. Dean’s breath comes in shaky bursts with every inch, Cas’ breath hot against his face as he brings them closer together. It’s near torture not to move, but Dean feels like he would break whatever spell has fallen over them if he so much as breathes too loudly.  
   
“Look at me,” Cas whispers, and Dean doesn’t even remember closing his eyes, but he opens them and looks up at Cas, who’s smiling at him, hair spiking in every direction from where Dean has been grasping at it. “I love you.”  
   
Dean dips his chin to kiss him with a shaky laugh, “I love you too.”  
   
Cas hums through a wide grin as he rolls his hips, one hand sliding under Dean’s chees, and he brings their lips together again. Dean shuffles closer, pulling his knee up under Cas’ side in an awkward attempt to draw him deeper. The position is awkward and uncomfortable, but he likes being able to see Cas’ face, to see the way each jolt of pleasure flashes across his features. Cas is beautiful, sweaty and flushed, his eyes clouded and dark with arousal. It occurs to Dean belatedly, that they’ve never done this face-to-face, and it sparks soemthing urgent in him. He rolls onto his back, pulling Cas with him, and wrapping his thighs around Cas’ waist, moaning low when Cas takes advantage of the new position, shifting up the bed to better reach Dean’s neck. He nips at the skin, soothing over each bite with his lips and tongue as Dean moans softly beneath him.  
   
Cas picks up the pace, building up a steady rhythm and burying his face in Dean’s neck, “fuck, you feel amazing,” he breathes. He gives one hard thrust and Dean gasps, arching up hard into him.  
   
“Oh God,” he gasps, “like that” and Cas pulls back far enough to crush their lips together before thrusting hard again.  
   
“Yeah?” he asks, biting down on Dean’s lip.  
   
“Harder,” Dean groans, rolling his head back as his hips jump up to meet Cas’ thrusts, “fuck yeah.” He loses coherency as Cas drives into him, reduced to indistinct mumbling and moaning. His hands work over Cas’ back, his shoulders, his ass, clinging to whatever part of Cas he can reach as Cas pushes him closer and closer to the edge. The room is silent except for the slick slide and slap of skin, and Dean’s loud cry as Cas hits his prostate. 

He’s mumbling, practically begging Cas to fuck him harder, daster, his fingers digging into the flesh of Cas’ ass to drive him deeper. He makes the mistake of looking up at Cas, and it almost undoes him. Cas’ hair is plastered to his forehead, still mussed up in the back, and he looks completely wrecked. Dean lifts a hand to push the hair back and Cas catches his eye with a grin.  
   
“So hot babe,” Dean mutters, pushing himself up to kiss him, “fuckin’ love you.” The kiss is sloppy, more shared breath than actual contact, but Cas slides an arm under him and pulls him up so they’re flush against each other, lips brushing with the slightest movement.  
   
It’s not the most comfortable at first, but when Cas sits back on his knees, hauling Dean into his lap, Dean goes with him easily. It’s so much more intimate than anything he’s ever experienced, straddling Cas’ lap with their faces barely an inch apart, but it’s good. It’s right.  
   
Cas is staring at him with hooded eyes and Dean kisses him roughly, almost unbalancing himself as his arms fly up to wrap around Cas’ neck. He groans into Cas’ mouth as Cas fucks into him harder, losing all finesse in his desperation.  
   
“So close,” Dean rasps, grinding back on Cas’ lap. He presses his dick into Cas’ stomach, thrusting against him in time with Cas’ hips, and he cries out again as Cas nails his prostate, dropping his head to Cas’ shoulder and biting down on it to stifle his moans.  
   
“Right there, babe, _fuck_ \- ‘m gonna- don’t stop, _don’t stop_ \- holy _shit_ -“ 

Dean comes with his arms tight around Cas’ neck, teeth sinking into the skin on his shoulder as his dick twitches against Cas’ stomach, pulsing his release between them. Cas growls and thrusts up hard, burying himself deep inside Dean as he follows, shaking hard as he rides out his orgasm. He gasps and holds Dean tightly to his chest, panting into his collar bone and pressing frantic kisses into his skin.  
   
Neither of them move for a long time, loose-limbed and tangled together until Cas presses his lips to Dean’s tacky skin, kissing along the column of his throat. Dean sighs at the tenderness, bringing his hands up to card gently through Cas’ hair, massaging his head with his fingertips.  
   
“I do love you,” he breathes. Cas only hums in reply, his mouth preoccupied with the task of kissing every inch of Dean.  
   
Dean’s shaky and boneless, relying entirely on Cas to hold him up, but he can’t think of anywhere else he’d rather be. When Cas lays him back down and drops to the mattress next to him, Dean rolls onto his side, propping himself up on his elbow to look down at Cas.  
   
“So... what now?”  
   
Cas looks up at him, his expression soft and dopey, “sleep, preferrably.”  
   
“That’s not what I meant.”  
   
Cas grins, “I know.” Dean picks at the sheet between them until Cas reaches out and twines their fingers together. When Dean looks up, Cas is mirroring his position, his eyes trained on Dean. “We could get dinner. Tonight – I’ll order in.”  
   
“We’re gonna do the dating thing _now_? Isn’t that a little backwards?”  
   
Cas smiles and slips a hand over Dean’s hand, scooting closer. He kisses his lips and temple before pressing their foreheads together, “does it matter that it’s backwards?” Dean gives him a hopeful half-grin, and Cas continues, “our relationship has been... atypical since I moved in, and it’s worked for us so far. I’m still here.” He pauses and Dean just looks at him, blushing faintly because Cas just _knows_. Cas brushes his thumb over Dean’s jaw, “and for the record, I’m not about to leave now, so why don’t we get some Chinese, and watch TV,” he pauses to grin, “and then later, I’ll show you just how much I want to stay. Backwards or not,” he leans close so his breath dusts over Dean’s lips, “okay?”  
   
“I thought that’s what you just did?”  
   
Cas chuckles, “are you saying you don’t want me to?”  
   
“Not at all,” Dean breathes.  
   
“Good,” Cas kisses him quickly and rolls away, “how do you feel about chicken fried rice?”


End file.
